Beneath the Shade of Oaks
by Inudaughter Returns
Summary: This is a tale written by request for ObeliskX. In the realm of Heroes of Might and Magic, Anwen and Godric have a shared past... and shared secrets. Love can prevail in even the darkest of times and even between very different nations.
1. Chapter 1

Not many knights come to the ancient forests of Irollan. Not many are supposed to, for Syris Thalle is a timeless kingdom devoted to Sylanna, the dragon god of life. Only the Elves worship Sylanna. Mankind worship their other gods- dieties of light, death, or even none at all in the case of wizards. The dwarves worship their dragon god of earth. Our cousins, the dark elves, worship the dragon god of secrets and darkness. The demons worship the dragon god of chaos. It is they especially who are unwelcome here.

I am Anwen, General of the Elves of Syris Thalle and daughter of Lasir, late ruler of the elves. By night or day, it is both my duty and my quest to guard the sanctity of our borders from all they who would enter here. I am Anwen, she who it is rightly said can track a breeze and put an arrow through a bird's eye. The humans rightly call us leaf dwellers, for we do not leave our forest home, or Sylanna lightly. We live in harmony with triants, fairies, and unicorns, drawing strength from their harmonious magic to bolster our ranks of archers and druids. A few of our dead are even interred by sacred rite into a living tree to be reborn as a nymph- the ultimate gift of our alliance with the triants. Mystical creatures abound here, but as I have said, very human knights are found.

But on this day, there was an exception. Varkas, as a stout man with a red cape, brown hair, spiked cuffs, and a gold shield was wandering around my woods again with his hound dog and I wondered what he was up to this time. Varkas was as good friend a friend as any to the Elves of Irollan- he had stood up for us against his own people when he found we were without blame for a crime we didn't commit. Varkas was just, noble, brave, and level-headed- all good qualities for a knight, but Varkas also was tremendously unmotivated to do anything but trouble the deer of Syris Thalle or haunt our taverns in search of ale and elven maids. On this ocassion when I found the graying Varkas at the edge of our forest, I rolled my eyes at him.

"So far from home, Varkas?" I said. "Or are you planning to settle this time and change your vest of furs for one of leaves?" Varkas barked out his laughter.

"No thank you, proud elf!" he said reaching down into the oiled leather pouch at his waist and drawing out a letter. "I only stay just long enough in either place to earn the title of traveler," he said speaking of home as well as Irollan. I took the letter from his hand. Then his eyes grew softer.

"I know you did not like the letter I delivered last."

It was true. The last letter that come to me had told me ill news indeed. The very same young man I had once saved from demons had now been killed by demons in his old age.

The loss of Godric was a sword wound. In my youth, Godric and I had been united in grief and loss. He had been there on the fateful day when my father was murdered by demons and had been captured himself. I had freed Godric, and that had been our second bond of friendship. But there was something more, something else, that had happened later to tie us forever in each other's lives so that this grief was deep. Reluctantly, I took the letter from Varkas.

"I hope nothing has happened to his daughter," I said of Frieda, she who had become the new queen of the human empire and its capital, Talonguard. The Griffen Empire had passed away with with staunchest supporter, Godric, and now wore a most ironic title, the Unicorn Empire, instead. But as I knew, no single living unicorn actually lived inside the empire of its title. The unicorns are reliant on Sylanna, even more than the elves, and would never leave her heels.

"Well, I had better read it before the sun goes down!" I said tearing it open. "If I hesitate any longer I will need a magic spell to see it!" And I hated using magic spells if could help it. It is so easy to deplete magical powers and so difficult to regenerate them, even if as a general I am skilled in the arts. I held the scrap of expensive parchment to the light.

"Sylanna!" I exclaimed as I read the page. "I do not know whether or not to be happy or sad for this tiding you bring, Varkas! Queen Frieda of the Unicorn Empire has invited me to attend a funeral! For our beloved Godric!" Varkas looked at me sadly.

"It is a gladness, lady. You should rejoice. It speaks volumes that Queen Frieda sees the elves as friends and not foes. There will be no war between us for some time. Besides, do you not want to say your own goodbyes to one you cherished?" My eyes fell. It was a while before I spoke. It was a blasphemous truth, and one I would only speak to Varkas.

"To grieve him in person would only remind me. His soul has gone to be with his god, Elwarth, dragon god of light. Frieda heard and saw the angels guide his soul to Elwrath's steps. But I am an elf and Sylanna's chosen. When I die, if I am deemed worthy, my soul will go to a another place. To a different god. So we will never be reunited. In this life, or the next."

"Ah," said Varkas. "A deeper sadness than the first. It is little wonder that the elves mix so little with those of other races, then."

"As long as we are ruled by dragon gods, yes." I said speaking of the seven deities that lived hidden somewhere in the realms of their peoples. Somewhere under foot, I knew, Sylanna stirred and listened to all through the stirring of the leaves. It was because of this that our druids could send messages through one another through our sacred oaks. As a gift of Sylanna, she echoed our words for us and whispered her missives to us through sacred leaves. I knew that as long as I was in the forest, my every word and deed were within the elven god's ears. Even these blasphemous ones.

"No one has served Sylanna better than you, lady," said Varkas, trying to lift my spirits. "And none have been as blessed by her as you. You have her righteous fury as a mother to life. Her strength runs through your veins and in your spells. Sylanna will never abandon you."

"Sometimes I am surprised," I said. I fiddled with the golden roots I wore on a tether around my neck. It was a sacred artifact granted by Sylanna. I had found it on the day my father died and had kept it ever since. That it worked so well was yet another mark of blessing by Sylanna. I loved the forest and protected it with my life. Yet sometimes my religion was wearying in one way.

"Sylanna and Elwrath are brethren," Varkas said with a soft smile. "You worry too much, lady."

"And so is the god of demons, Urgash," I provoked my friend. We both scowled at the name.

"Who is enemy to Sylanna and Elwarth, both! And you have done more to send the demons back to Sheog than any other elf, my lady."

"True," I said with modesty. "Except Findan." I spoke of my cousin, who now had become an even greater general than I. He had gone to the very gates of the demon king with allies to challenge him and restore peace to the surface world of men, elves, and dwarves.

"So will you go?" asked Varkas. "I will escort you, my lady," offered Varkas with a bow. I trembled. It was a momentous decision.

"I will go, if I have Elder Euny's blessing," I said of the old druid priest who watched over our Sacred Tree. He could consult Sylanna for me.

"So be it," said Varkas with a shrug. "More time in the tavern while I wait," said my friend, for he knew that the ceremony could be long.

Indeed it was. For several hours Euny and I sat in silent contemplation inside the Sacred Tree while Sylanna searched our hearts. The smell of fresh herbs lain in a circle all around me and smothered against my cheeks in a salve was calming. Perhaps I needed this calm. Euny surprised me by folding a single acorn into my palm.

"Sylanna wishes your heart peace, my daughter," said Euny. Our chief priest was so old and wizened now that that he could hardly stand. I gasped. I clutched the gift to my chest for it was no little thing.

"But who will watch the borders?" I fussed mostly out of habit. I feared the invasion of demons at any moment like an illness that never fades. Euny smiled at me.

"Fidan will watch the borders. But Sylanna cares about you, child. Our sacred mother wishes you peace and knows you must part our borders for a time to seek it." Euny stood upright against his curled wood staff as tall as he was able. I stared back deep into his eyes.

"Very well, Father Euny," I said tucking the acorn into a deerskin puch around my neck. "I will do as you say." I bowed.

It was a fearful thing to leave our woods. It was an even more fearful thing to do so without a war party. I was accustomed to having at least one unit around me at all times as I prowled and paced every inch of Syris Thalle. But today was a different day. It was, as the acorn, a new life coming into being. I did not shed my sacred leaf armor. I could not shed the green war stripes tattoed below my eyes. But I took with me only a guard of archers and civilans. Our safety I entrusted to Varkas once we reached the border between the human and elven realms. We exchanged unicorns for horses and trained war bears for human knights to guide and guard us on our way. This was a path I had never before trod. It took more trust than I thought myself capable.

"I will guard you and all yours with my life, lady," said Varkas saluting. I stiffened, because it was not just for my life that I feared but for that of my companions. An entire elven court in miniature was coming on my heels, for I was a high born of the realm- a late eleven king's only daughter. In a sense, my visit at the invitation of Talonguard's queen now made me an important emissary to the bordering human kingdom. But it was not for my kingdom's sake that I now walked. It was for my own.

"There it is," said Varkas after nearly two full moons of travel over hills and broad flat plains mowed flat and bare by people. Peasant cottages dotted the land and the residents of these milled like ants in every direction, at nearly every hour. Even when the owl called, some one was not asleep. I had hardly paid attention to Vakas' words. I had been transfixed by the white stone castle up ahead. The old general within me stirred as I wondered how, in case of need, one might best besiege such a vast edifice. Or defend it.

"The old Unicorn Dutchy!" Varkas declared and I swiveled my head around looking for unicorns. But the only thing I saw was a slender river of water running by the castle walls.

"Why the unicorns?" I wondered. Varkas laughed.

"Knights ride horses, here, just like any others! No. The name comes from a late king. It is an emblem he gave to the lineage to reflect their honor and steadfastness. No one can get by the guard of unicorns, easily. They are loyal. Solid. Determined. You know this more than anyone," he said for it was true. Many unicorns were born and bred under my judicious eye for some of them were our warriors and all our friends. Only a line of triants, the living trees, was harder to crack through.

"So we are to stay within those walls?" I said shuddering with awe and fear. Because walls of stone were for dwarves and men. Not Sylanna's children.

"Consider it an adventure, my lady," said Varkas who knew well of those. "A learning experience."

Our horses led themselves as much as by us straight through the castle's walls, past its moat and its bridge. The city within stunk of garbage and too many peasants squashed together without purifying the soil and water around them. But the chapels at least kept braziers burning to lessen the smell. I heard an anvil ring and a thousand voices. Cart wheels churning. The city of men was noisy.

On the faces of those we passed were many expressions. Some hate. Some reverent awe. Some lust. Some, love! The elves of Irollan had at times been enemies to mankind when we were attacked. But for others we were allies in critical times of need. For many we were a tale full of mysticism, as unreal to them as their angels were to us for ours was a different god. Sylanna's elder brother ruled here, Elwrath, the god of light. But as a consequence, there was less of Sylanna's life. Death nibbled on the edges of fiercely mortal man.

"Here, my lady," said Varkas offering his arm to me in a human custom when we reached our destination at last. "Give your arm to me and I will be as good and honorable an escort as a knight can be!" I gave my arm to Varkas, though the dependence on someone when I was healthy ran counter to the fierce independence of elves and he knew it. Most elves would die of a fever first before asking for another to snare a rabbit for them. Such an attitude was both one of our strengths and flaws.

"Very well, Varkas!" I said although I was not a child. Far from it. Although my face belonged to a young elf, a multitude of years had passed in human time. Most of those men who shared the same birthday as mine had passed on of old age by now, for Elves were a long-lived race. Varkas, despite the gray in his beard, was younger than me with my cascade of fairest blond locks.

"You look well, lady!" said Varkas, not out of romance, but to calm my nerves more than anything and prove himself a good knight. A wreath of white lilies was woven into my hair like a crown. Over my magic-imbued leaf armor I wore a cloak of white. Like a gown, it rustled in the wind, billowing, for it too was made of plants and not hide or the hair of beasts.

"You have my thanks, Varkas!" I said before we came to the throne room of the dutchy's castle and my guide demonstrated to me how to bow. Frieda, Godric's daughter, sat on the hall's throne. I had never before seen Godric's daughter but I knew much of her. More than she ever knew.

"Queen Frieda," said I with an elegant bow. "Greetings from Syris Thalle! May the Empire of the Unicorn live long in its reign," I said thinking of her father for a moment, "ever true and just!"

"Welcome," said Queen Frieda. "Our friends and allies, welcome! We pray for peace between our nations for many years, and joy in both our kingdoms! But for today, we grieve, for someone dear to us both is lain to rest in his final tomb."

"Yes," I said with unhappy acknowledgement. I held my breath and spoke slowly because I could not choke. There were so many secrets it might be best remained unknown. "Godric was the greatest of men."

"My father was," said Frieda sadly. Yet the look she angled my way was puzzled. How much did she know? As if reading my mind, she revealed a truth.

"Among my late father's possessions were several unsent letters to you. Speaking to those of his court, it seems that you and he were good friends. The letters he sent you were many."

"Godric and I have known each other well from our earliest childhood," I offered by manner of explanation. "I was there to stand before his cradle while my father, Lasir, still lived. I was there when he was a teenager and held captive by demons. When I slit the sinews of his captives, his eternal friendship was the means by which he returned the debt," I explained skillfully. But I added on another sentence which was much less clever. "And he and I have remained true in council over the years."

"Yes," said Frieda, her eyes still swirling with puzzlement as she sorted out her father's hidden life.

"Yes! Godric was a good one!" said Varkas loudly, lightening the mood. "But a bit simple. He always went around shouting, 'Griffen Eternal!"

"No more often than I went around shouting, 'Sylanna, guide my arrows!" I said with a radiant smile. "What do you want from old generals?"

"You hardly look that old!" Varkas complained tugging on his beard.

"I will in three hundred years," I offered as my only means of consolement. For there was none. Varkas was destined to live out a human's years just like any other man, save for the necromancers.

"The funeral shall be tomorrow," said Frieda in the brighter mood Varkas had brought her. "Please be prepared for the procession at dawn. The burial shall be at noon."

"What about breakfast?" I puzzled.

"Mourners typically fast," said Frieda and I grimaced. Fasting was a human's peculiar religious practice. The practice bothered elves as much as it bothered humans that we made amulets of bird's feet. Sylanna is a god of life, not the torment of it.

"Very well," I said with a touch of annoyance. "We will honor your tradition." I would be sure to eat a much heavier meal the night before.

But I did not feel much like eating when morning came, anyway. The grief of those around me heightened the own grief I felt and so I followed after the long line of human mourners silently. Even the lowliest of peasants came before elves, so it was long past noon when at last I was able to kneel at Godric's grave. It was made out of enormous blocks of gray granite stone and strewn with enough flowers to bury it like a meadow beneath snow. Sorrowed, I brushed the fragrant blooms away to reveal his name. Unwisely then, I wept before the eyes of Frieda.

"So tell me then," said Frieda when all but her nearest and most trusted of guard had gone away. "I am the Queen of this realm. You are as near a queen as there is in yours! Let there not be any secrets between us! What was Godric to you?"

"Godric?" I said. "Ah! Now that is a long story. Are you certain that you want to hear?"

"I do," said Frieda, her eyes determined, seeking.

"Very well," I said, "provided you swear to tell this tale to no one!"

"I swear!" said Queen Frieda of the Unicorn Empire. I looked up into the sky. Hopefully both the gods of Elwrath and Sylanna would grant their mercy to me as I began a tale of long, long ago.


	2. Chapter 2

Summer's scent wafted across Irollan on the day I first met Godric. Only he wasn't a man then, but a hale, brown-haired boy child. Godric was at one of his father Edric's councils, standing among the men, listening to their words, learning. The knighthood was his future and well he knew it. Although half grown and with tousled hair instead of a steel helm, he dallied beside the waists of all the nobles of the kingdom for he was related by blood to the king himself. As his father's eldest, one day he would inherit the command of a Duchy. Godric soaked in the words of his elders, eager, searching for his significance. His eagerness for wisdom would have made even an elven priest proud.

My father was friends and needful allies with the human kingdom of men. Both elves and men guarded our world against the aspirations of demons, who were apt to invade from their holes underground at anytime. Yet on this day, the land was peaceful. Cheerful blossoms fluttered across my cheek like soft satin as it shifted on my wrists. I wore a maiden's gown for the occasion, perfumed with oils. But my hardwood bow was a comforting force on my back. Its stiffness yet suppleness reminded me to have both strength and flexibility for ours was a mission of peace. A time of renewed promises.

I remember when Godric's mother set his sibling Aiden down in a cradle stuffed full of feathers shorn from the finest geese. I dangled a minor amulet above young Aiden and looked into his cheerful eyes, so pure and vacant from the pain of human knowledge. Then I showed Godric's second sibling, Fiona, what it was I teased her brother with.

"See?" I asked Fiona. "He keeps tugging at all that is in his reach! Your new brother has much strength of life!"

"And much mischief!" Fiona said. "He pulls on my gold necklace all the time! It hurts! But especially my hair!" Fiona complained in the loud voice of a girl who has recently become adept at speech and abuses that power. She was not yet tutored in the decorum of nobles, although such studies would begin next year, when she left the nursery for good.

"Well, your brother has done his mischief! The clasp will need mending. But at least my hair is spared." I slipped the amulet into a pouch at my waist for safekeeping. Fiona watched this, but her attention drifted elsewhere. She was looking for her nanny.

"When is supper?" she declared with eagerness. The children frequently dined first and were sent away to bed before the men came. But I was a guest and a warrior in training. I would sit beside my father Lasir in the hall at dinner when the sun had vanished and the moon burned bright in its hours.

"I shall rest," I said thinking longingly of a nap, for if I had to wait long for my meat, then I preferred that sleep suppressed my hunger. But Godric's mother had read my mind as easily as that of her own children.

"Here, have some figs," she said offering me a bowl of dried fruit from a table nearby her chair set in the shade. "The children are always hungry! Always growing!" she remarked. I took a bit of fig and examined it closely before biting it. My hunger ebbed.

Towards evening, my father Lasir and me washed our faces in a bowl of water brought to us in our rooms. I wiped my face dry with cloth. I was ready to go. My feet stirred with wanderlust. So, while my father Lasir busied himself, I crept just outside our room and looked towards the stair leading down. Up and down the hall were many rooms, and snooping at the door to one where lamplight flickered from within, I was startled to see Godric conversing with his white-capped tutor.

"Hello, Lady Anwen," said Godric standing up to bow ceremoniously before my frame though he was yet several feet shorter than me. "Do you require escort?"

"I might," I said a bit flustered that my impatience was causing trouble to our host's son. The proper thing would be to wait for my father. But I was bored. "I do not know the way."

"Dinner has not yet been called," Godric explained patiently to me. He pointed to a set of bells hung on colorful rope. The end of this rope disappeared into the floor. "Dinner is ready when the bells ring three times! But I will be happy to converse with you, Lady Anwen."

"You are a kind host," I offered, meaning it, for I was still a young hunter in training. I was easily overlooked by true adults. But neither did I wish to hang about the nursery with Fiona and her nanny. I looked around the room.

"You have many books!" I complimented. Godric smiled.

"This is a classroom! Do you not have a tutor, also?"

"My father has taught me to read himself. But I have many masters to learn from. Head Priest Euny teaches the sacred and the past. The Head of the Huntsman Lodge teaches me how to catch game."

"Is it difficult, your training?" I shrugged.

"It feels natural to me. The bow in my hand is like the blood in my veins. The tension of the string is like the air in my breath. It is tiring but well worth it. What of you? Have you begun a warrior's training?"

"I will be sent to the Unicorn Duchy Academy in a few years," Godric said trying to make his voice sound deeper than it really was. I giggled. "To learn jousting and swordsmanship and knight's drills."

"And honor," I said. "You human knights are always going on about 'honor'."

"That, my lady is something we of the Unicorn Duchy learn from birth. It is our worship of Elrath. Do you know what my mother and aunt say whenever we part?"

"No," I answered awkwardly, and curious. "What is it?"

"Strength, piety, and honor!"

"I am fond of the simplicity of 'farewell' myself!"

"But we are not guaranteed the wellness of farewell," Godric said with a maturity far greater than his years. "It is more important that we celebrate we have lived well rather than for how long. With all respect, Lady Anwen, we are not as ageless as the Elves." I smiled then, for even if the topic was grim, stroking a sadness within me even then, Godric had spoken well.

"I shall wait with you!" I declared with a bit of fire of my spirit deciding for me. "There is much of your lands and kin I am curious about!" I said opening my hands to the air.

"And I of yours, lady!" said the boy with a polished bow.

We spoke for a time. I did not recall what it was we said, only that elves were as unknown to Godric as his kind were to me. In the pit of my heart, I feared the human's ways. But as I befriended Godric, some of that fear faded. True, it might be that this same young man might be called to wage war on my kind some day. But it was just as likely that the role as allies in a great war against the demons might befall us. Ours was a world that had never had and never could be without war for long.

I had sat on a wooden stool, my long legs crossed as I perched nimbly. Godric's tales amused me. I wore a smile on my face when the small, silver dinner bell chimed three times, as Godric had predicted. I lowered my feet from the stool and stood on my feet. As I shifted, something fell from the pouch at my waist. I must not have secured it tightly, for the necklace Aiden had broke tumbled free. Godric held it in his hand.

"Yours, lady?" Godric offered it in his palm. But I grimaced at the costly trinket.

"Yes," I said. "It is my amulet. Sorry. I should be more careful," I said thinking of my cousin Findan. He was forever calling me clumsy. But Godric made no such remark.

"It is beautiful," Godric said examining the stone wrapped in wire and gold dipped leaves. "Is this an artifact?" Godric spoke thinking of magically infused objects. By chance, what he held in his hand was.

"If you like the amulet so much keep it, for you will soon have need of it!" I stated boldly. It was true. An elven amulet is crafted to be a thing a beauty, but it is also an instrument of war. Like armor, it guards its owner's life. Godric stared down at the gift. He struggled with himself to accept, so I helped him with it.

"Consider it a token of friendship," I said. "Between your kin and mine. We are allies, are we not? Our fathers are friends. Should not we be?"

"Yes," said Godric tightening his hand around the pendant so that I might see it no more. He looked up at me, frownless but smileless.

"I will accept. You have my thanks, Lady Anwen," said the young son of the Lord of the Duchy Empire.

I had aged a little more when I saw Godric next. Godric had grown tall, lanky yet, but with the beginning of thick muscles and hair as golden as if his mother had snipped the sun to make him. He and I were friends after a fashion. As part of his academic lessons, his tutor had him send letters to literate peers. One of these had been me. I could read and write the human craft as well as the ancient letters of my own kind. Sometimes I had explained my own studies of ancient scripts to Godric by letter. He was curious of our mythology, and with childlike enthusiasm he had listened by correspondence as I spun the tales of ancient Elven warriors, mystical creatures, and the mandates of our dragon god, Sylvanna.

But the cause of Godric's fateful visit to our court in Irollan had little to do with friendship. It had everything to do with politics for the King of Talonguard had sent our courts to meet. For this purpose, my father had ensconced beside a gate- a magic portal which was no little thing. Magic portals are both ancient and great in power. They take decades to complete and more gold than an army's wages to erect. They are dangerous also, for they might give passage to friend as well as foe. But as a measure of trust, a gate of transport had been erected to give passage between Talonguard and the outskirts of Irollan, nearby a river where a hunter's lodge and Treant's grove might be found.

Elves are not very fond of walls of stone. So my father's encampment to meet Edric, Lord of the Unicorn Empire and Delara, wife of the Ruler of the Silver Cities, was one of cloth tents of vibrant blue and red. It had begun as a day of joy. My training to be a ranger was complete on this day and I was now an adult and a warrior. My father was just as proud of me as I was of myself.

At least I can take comfort in this thought- the last time I saw my father alive was when he was smiling at me, full of pride and joy of the young woman I had become. In a few short years I would undergo the Rite of Oak's Choosing, which is a matrimonial ceremony by which I could, if I should choose a suitor to wed. I already knew of many young elf men who would likely offer, for I was the daughter of our King. Although the rulership of our people does not pass strictly through blood as it does for humans, but rather by Sylvanna's blessing, I was highly favored. My father and I knew we were near to a happy event for our family. Joy filled us as a water does a stream.

That happiness was cut away as surely as breath is from life when demons came for the Blade of Binding. An artifact entrusted to my father, he guarded it with his very life. In the battle within the campground, the sword was misplaced and disappeared from view for a time, only to return with Aiden.

My own life took a new path then. Steeped in hatred, I sought revenge. I drew on all the fury of Sylanna to slay every demon within my reach and as I drew stronger, I searched for answers. Words fell on my ears that Godric, also in the camp on that fateful day, still lived yet was captured by demons. I found him, and with a fury building in me in that moment that sealed my fate forever forward as I general, I slew the demons who confined him. The demon general Azexes, slayer of my father, fled back to Urgash by my hand. My prize was vengeance but also the life of my friend.

It was much to my surprise that by holy power, strength, or both, Godric broke through the manacles Urgash's children had bound him in and strode forward. Godric wore the armor of a knight now, for he had completed his training at the Unicorn Duchy Academy. His own path to being general was now to begin. But before Godric returned to Talonguard and its emperor, he paused. He posed to me a question, uttered deep from his heart.

"What drove you on?" said he. "I thought surely I was presumed dead and forgotten." Godric's look towards me was soft and he wore what few knights did towards an elf. A smile.

"We're united in grief and loss, Godric," I said, my heart deeply pained by the loss of my dear father. "I couldn't give up on you."

"A week ago I would not have understood that," Godric stated gently, with all the nobleness he had grown into. "I hope to see you again, Anwen. In happier times." I had missed some of smiles he had given me then. I was so lost in my grief. But happier times would come. And it would be as Godric had said. Once again we would meet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry folks, partly censored! To make sure it doesn't go over the M-rating, I had to censor some things. Fill in the blanks with your imagination, and possibly a sheet of paper and a graphite pencil. Kiddies go away! Go outside to play for a bit. I'll bribe you with a bag of Oreos. ;)**

Godric's poignant goodbye to me after I freed him from the demons was not entirely lost on me. My heart had stirred with some discernment of the importance of it, yet the grief of my father's loss obscured my recollection of it moments after we had parted. In my heart, I hoped yet did not truly expect such a reunion to come true. I was sylvan. Godric was human. Our races and nations were as separate as a fresh water brook from a salt-water sea. Yet, as I was to find, even the river meets the ocean in some places. Even elves and humans may meet, bonded more by our similarities than our differences.

With the demons pushed back from the earth and the Blood Eclipse thwarted, happier times had come to my people. We rebuilt the villages damaged by demons or by knights acting on the orders of their deceived king. We buried our dead with rites and we mourned them with grave clothes and song. We crafted beads of old weapons to remember our comrades by. I stood beside a hundred ceremonial spirit fires, and passed out many beads, for I was the daughter of our late king. I was also a general now. To honor the fallen of our people was a duty I had to fulfill, but the act nourished my soul, also. There was a deep wound to fill- that of my father's passing.

Findan was all the family I had now. My deer-head wearing, druid cousin was something of a pain to me. He had always followed after me and played nasty little, childish tricks when we were younger and he had only just recently begun to act more maturely. But out of my loneliness I began to grow fond of the cousin whom I had called a little brat on more than one occasion. Perhaps to spare me more grief which I didn't deserve, Findan began to play his practical jokes on other victims.

The sparseness of our lineage must have occured to Findan, too, for he was even more glad than I was when Priest Euny sent an envoy to my lodge. A priest with a deerskin headdress and a robe of finest violet came to kneel at my doorstep at the rising of the sun. I knew that this message must be special when I saw him. My visitor had worn the religious order's best holy bones and beads for the occasion. The gift he brought was a red oak leaf tucked into an envelope spun from the silk of tree moth caterpillars.

The leaf was a summons. It was the summons my father had wished to see most while he lived. It was a summons I had wished for myself, once. Now, I clung to the summons like the hope of a woman drowning at sea. I had spent the last four years of my life burying the past and the dead. Now, here at last, there might be a future.

"I shall open a keg of the finest mead for you, dear cousin!" Findan said when the envoy had left, for it would have been rude to speak while the holy envoy was around. "But I shall save my very best for your wedding day! Praise Sylanna! This is exactly what we need. The star of your future burns right, Anwen! You may well be the mother of our future king!"

"Perhaps," I said looking at the red oak leaf for I knew what it meant. The redness of the oak leaf symbolizes autumn, the time of harvest or maturity. It symbolized that I myself was now a woman of marrying age. But it also carried with it a second symbolism. This one was a little grimmer and more profound.

Among the sylvan, our dead at buried at the roots of trees. On rare occasion, our goddess transforms an elf directly into a tree on the eve of death. So in many ways, the forest which surrounds us is a sacred graveyard. The trees and dead and living have become one in a never-ending, spinning circle, for the trees capture the restless souls of elves instead of necromancers. The connection of our ancestors lingers for centuries within the trees, and so we benefit from their guidance with their wisdom, even while their spirits whisper from the hunting grounds of the afterlife.

My great, great, great- grandfather's oak tree was alive yet and it was from this tree that this leaf was taken. It was a potent symbol of success that my lineage had an entire grove of living oaks besides my ancestral grandfather's. Many of these trees had belonged to kings or generals of great importance. But my ancestor-father's tree was one among the holiest, for he had been greatly blessed by Sylanna. His tree, now digging its roots deeply down into Sylanna's holy soil, was among one of the eldest and largest of Syris Thalle.

But the connection of the leaf to me was subtle. It is a tradition among the elves that when a sylvan maiden becomes old enough to wed, all interested suitors might lay their offers at the roots of the woman's elected ancestral tree. This meant, that on a day appointed by Head Priest Euny, he would take me to the tree he had taken the oak leaf from- the most holy tree of my ancestors- and have me hear out all offers of marriage that any elf within Syris Thalle wished to give. It is partly out of the concept of fairness that we sylvan cherish that we do this. No suitor is barred, no matter how poor or homely. But it is so, as with humans, that the handsome and wealthy win these contests most. It is entirely possible, if the maiden wishes, to find all suitors unacceptable, in which case she would need to wait for the Head Priest's express permission to marry in the future. But it was not in my head to wait. I was ready to wear the laurel and leap the fires now.

"My house needs cleaning," I fretted. My cousin Findan laughed.

"You need cleaning, more, Anwen!" he said, pointing at my cheek. "There is mud on your cheek! And when is the last time you combed your hair!" Findan laughed at me some more. He was always well-groomed, while I spent my every waking hour twisting through the densest thickets of the woods in scouting missions. Even if we had peace now, the sudden loss of my father had forever instilled a distrust of peace within me. I had made it my life's mission to see that any unwelcome guest to Syris Thalle was routed or slain, promptly.

"I will buy a brush," I promised Findan, for I had no idea where I had mislaid mine. He responded by opening his knapsack and removing his from within. He offered it to me.

"Please, dearest cousin, favor me by brushing your hair now! It is hard to look upon you!"

"Twerp!" I said but I took the brush the same and dragged it with difficulty through my flaxen locks.

"So, have you chosen a day?" Findan asked. I blinked.

"To choose a man to marry? No! Sylanna, no!" I gaped. But Findan shook off my discomfort.

"Then let me choose the day for you!" said Findan, his voice a merry sing-song as usual. "How about two months from today? That gives me plenty of time to make sure that every household in the kingdom knows about this. I will spread the word myself!"

"You do not need to do that, Findan," I said modestly. But my cousin had taken on a serious look.

"I would like to see you happy, cousin," he said, "and you are my kin. Your kin shall be my kin. I wish to bring you choices that are good. Is there anyone you've your eye on particularly?"

"Well, no!" I said blushing. "Midarelif of the House of Resyotte is sort of handsome. But I don't know him well."

"He is of a good house," said Findan thoughtfully. "Perhaps too good. His family may not permit him to make an offer in favor of a more powerful house. They have several cities to their name!"

"I did not say that I expect it!" I fluffed up with rage. But Findan was used to my temperament and ignored me.

"I will do all that I can to help, you cousin!" Findan promised nobly. "Now you do what you can on your end of the bargain and brush your hair!" I took up the silver comb, mollified.

It is the custom of brides-to-be among elves just as it is with humans to look their best, so I ordered a ceremonial gown of spun silk from the tailors. The steward of my home and his wife, the cook, bought me a basket full of soaps and perfumed oils. From the druids, I sent for holy herbs for my bath but my laurel I would get from Euny himself when the time came.

Two months flew by in a nervous frenzy. I had scrubbed and rescrubbed all the dirt away a thousand times. Yet I remained as deeply suntanned as a sylvan might be. My hair curled up in ringlets at its edges against my bidding. But at least I smelt like a rose for I had been drenched with herbs and flowers and thousand times over.

A lot of my attention had gone into dressing myself as a bride. But at the edge of my mind remained the part of the who was a general, and my fears. Whilst I was playing at braids, who was keeping the necromancers at bay? Who was overseeing the training of my troops? Much to Findan's consternation, I dressed in my leaf armor, saddled my unicorn, and rode out to several garrisons as my appointed day to meet Euny beneath my ancestor tree drew nearer.

The old lodge where I had first learned archery was a welcome sight, as were the soldiers old and new who garrisoned there. I shared a beer with old friends and rode on. Halfway between one garrison and the next lay a village which was more a home to me than the wooden villa I had inherited at my father's passing. I stopped to say my hellos to elf couple who ran a tavern where I had rented a room for months at a time. In a way I was running away from the great unknown future that I faced and towards memories I had of happier times. I was enjoying myself. That was, until a soldier came up to me with a message in his hand from one of the garrisons at the edge of the kingdom. I jolted at the note when I read it.

"Who let him in?!" I raged crumpling up the note. "You know humans are forbidden from entering the kingdom without permission!" I raged. But the veteran archer in green suit bowed a much as his longbow would allow and fixed his steely eyes on me.

"Lady Anwen, it was by your orders that we let him in! The visitor is Godric of the Unicorn Duchy. You have given him permission to visit our kingdom in the past," the veteran reminded me gently. I was stunned.

"Godric? What might he be here for? Did he say?"

"Yes, M'lady!" the soldier said lifting up a second sheet of parchment for me to take. This one was more a scroll such as one might record a spell upon. It was fine calfskin vellum wrapped around a wooden rod. There were scratches of black ink scrawled on it. I recognized the handwriting immediately for Godric and I had sent a thousand notes between one another while our fathers yet lived.

"Godric wishes to see unicorns?" I asked lifting an eyebrow. "This is a long way to come for curiosity, but this is Godric!" I shook my head. "The scholar in him never rests, does it? Very well, send Godric a message back and bring him to me! He shall see his unicorns."

"Yes, my lady!" said the elf archer who had brought the message. He left me after a brief salute, this time by a hand swept along the head like a summer breeze.

Godric had come into my kingdom with great trust, for he rode with only a few horsemen and priests at his side. It was a thin bodyguard he traveled with, not an army. Yet by the sounds of things, Godric had become quite the skilled general himself. He now knew enough battle magic to send most foes flying at a wave of his hand. He was an even more famed warrior than I for his part in saving humanity from the Blood Eclipse.

The four years since we had parted last had aged him into a man at his height of strength and vigor. His arms were now stout bands and his voice deeper, richer. His face had altered a bit yet his eyes and smiles were much the same as they had been when I had seen him last. But there was another look there glimmering in Godric's eyes. Nostalgia. He drew in a look of me like a man who has lived too long without a glass of water. He lifted my fingers to his lips and kissed my hand.

"My Lady Anwen!" Godric declared. "Praise be to all gods that ye be well!" I drew back my hand and touched my fingers from where they had been kissed. I blushed. There was something about this Godric that had all the vigor of a buck in its crowning glory. He carried himself just as proudly, only he wore armor of gleaming metal instead of antlers.

"Godric, my old, dear friend," I answered slowly. "Praise the gods you are well, also! So, you have come to see the unicorns?" I asked smiling with wit. I gestured toward the one I rode upon.

"See, now you have seen one!" I uttered. "Content?"

"Well, in truth, no my Lady," said Godric. "It is my fondest wish to visit one of the sanctuaries where they are bred and reared, to see for myself how much they differ from other beasts."

"Any reason for such fascination?" I asked.

"A rearing unicorn is my House's emblem," Godric explained with much practicality. "I thought it time I understood just what the symbol meant."

"Oh good, wise Godric!" I smiled at the friend I had shared so many letters with in my youth. "You shall have your wish! But I ask that we depart on this hour if we are to see the unicorns. There is a gathering I must attend two days from now," I said sliding my eyes off to the distance with guilt. I was cutting it close to my ceremony of choosing overseen by Head Priest Euny.

"What is that?" Godric asked innocently. It might have altered much if I had explained things then. But I fibbed instead.

"Oh, it's nothing," I lied outright. I gave orders to my own traveling companions to march and Godric and I rode side by side to the nearest unicorn sanctuary.

I had to agree with Godric's sentiments that they are impressive beasts when his eyes finally laid upon unicorns. These were broodmares- unbridled and untamed in all their woodland glory. Gleaming, shining, shimmering with both daylight dappling across their shiny coat and the magic radiating from within, they tiptoed through the woods banishing the shadows with a soft, dull light around them. In the bright, broad daylight their skin reflects the light. Like the reflection off green meadow grass soaked with dew then drenched with full sunlight, the unicorns are too uncomfortable to the eyes to gaze at except from beneath a shaded hand. Godric and I stopped by a shimmering pool of water stirred by their hooves and watched a stallion boss his herd of females and colts around.

The unicorns left the sun for a darker, damper patch of of mossy wood and we followed them, no longer shielding our eyes out of necessity. Godric watched the unicorn's stamp, the muscles in their legs rippling and I found myself watching muscles, too, but not that of the unicorns. It was those of Godric as he lifted his arms to stretch. The knight had discarded his armor for plain clothes and I saw the similarity between unicorns and the Unicorn Duchy for the first time, myself. It was Godric himself, with his battle-hardened biceps, who was the unicorn among men. Now I understood. At that moment, awkwardness came upon us as the stallion among the unicorns mounted a mare to spread his seed within it.

"We should go," I said catching Godric's hand to tug him from the sight. He flinched from the sudden contact and I realized my mistake.

"Oh! I am sorry!" I apologized for among human nobility such a gesture would be considered intimate. The women folk were kept separate from the men on most occasions. Like possessions, women are shared among households only with great contracts and bargains between the noble houses. It was especially so with someone so nearly related to a king. I doubted that Godric had ever kissed a woman in his life, let alone drank mead with them or sat around a campfire singing songs or listening to the music played beneath the light of an untamed moon, as all sylvan do. He was much too holy to have visited a human's brothel, either.

"I am fine," said Godric a faint smile teasing the corners of his lips. Yet he was as pale as I had ever seen him.

Godric and I made our way back to my party of travelling companions. My plan was to see him to the nearest village and give him license to journey to a proper tree city where I would have him treated with full respect. Once my guest was seen too, I would return to Findan and Euny and my ancient elder's tree for my important ceremony. But something within me tugged at my heart. I felt ill at ease.

"I am feeling unwell," I admitted in a hairsbreadth as I gritted my teeth. It was much that I had said anything. An elf warrior is commonly so full of pride that he will bind his wounds himself rather than fall out of formation for a moment, and I was no exception. But today, in this moment, I did not feel like a warrior, but a maiden. I shook by Godric's side. My heart was cold like ice, my skin hot.

"I am going for a drink," I said handing the reins to my unicorn to one of my attendants, an elf archer named Mayous. I shrugged off my discomfort by plowing off into the woods. The leaves above my head abounded with game and if I had been in the mood to, I could have taken a fat grouse as if flew by overhead with a short burst of its stubby wings. But the only thing I longed for, truly, was distance. Unbidden, my feet stumbled to one of my most favored waterfalls. It was a tiny spring cleft high up in a rock face. Most of the year, it is dry but in the rainy season it reaches its most violent and coldest torrent- as it did now. Willing to wash the madness off my perspiration-soaked skin, I stepped deep into the water and waded into the fall. I held out two hands to cup the water to drink. Then I let the water simply spill into my hands, watching it fill then flood out over the edges of my cupped palms. My white gown of an sylvan bride grew drenched over my leaf armor.

"By Sylanna!" I cursed to myself. "I must wash! I must purify myself of this feeling!" My body had shook in the sight of a man who was human. It was someone who hardly knew the ways of my people and did not worship our dragon god. He was a devout disciple of Elrath. Yet the boy I had known had become a man sculpted like a mountain. His sword wielding arms were battle-hardened steel. His eyes were a molten fire of passion, not the cool of a sylvan forest.

Wild and blurry-eyed, I tore my clothing off and lay them on a rock by waterfall, just outside of its spray. "Godric!" I moaned to myself, mournful of what his presence was doing to me. As I curved my arms around my chest to support my breasts and arched up into the water in anguish, willing it to wash my lust away, my sharp ears heard a rustle in the brush. I sunk deeper into the waterfall.

"Anwen?" came Godric's nervous call. He spotted my clothing on the rock over head, and forced his eyes away. But then, the same eyes that wished to remain devout and pure took on concern and he pushed them once again to where it was dangerous for them to be. I saw relief in them that I was well. But they rounded wider still at the sight of my nude backside as I clung to my breasts. His eyes were a modest apology until his gaze locked his with mine. The desire within me still smoldered. It was Godric, next, who shook. Details of what followed, I do not tell lightly.

"My Lady Anwen!" Godric groaned out much as I had done a minute earlier with his name. He stepped closer to me. I stood still and silent within the falls, my hands still curled around my breasts as he paced towards me, my eyes hunger with desire for Godric, much as one would have for rare and precious game. It was a different kind of arrow we were feeling.

"Godric," his name came off my lips like a whisper. Yet it resonated in the watery grove, just above the sound of the waterfall. Godric placed his gloved hand tenderly on either side of my arms.

"You have… you will… lady!" the man said finding his tongue at last. "We have been friends for a long time. Allies. And you are my savior," said Godric thinking of the day I had saved him from demon invaders. "When I was child you gave me an amulet. It was just a gift. A token of allegiance. But among my people sometimes when a lady gives a man a gift it means something," said Godric leaning closer and searching my eyes for rejection. He found none.

"What?" I asked finding the air to breath.

"Sometimes such a gift is a token of love," spoke Godric softly, braving the unknown with the slight edge of fear. "Sometimes I have hoped for such a thing as I have kept it," said Godric pulling out the amulet from a pocket in his plain clothes. I wrapped my hand around the amulet so that it was knotted between two hands- his and mine.

"Then keep it as such," I whispered. Godric's lips felt for my own. They pressed gingerly, inexperienced at first and then, they took on the boldness of the man who owned them. They quested to dominate. It was a battle I played back, mildly. Pulling and sucking when his lips allowed, I tasted of him and found it sweet, satisfying like no drink of mead I had ever tasted.

"More!" I called lost in unbidden desire. Lost, too, Godric took me by the arm and like a lady of his court, led me to the sodden banks, his eyes still lost in mine. Then they cast down on my naked body and I let my arms fall so that he could drink in the the entire sight of me. My slender, tall sylvan body pale like moonlight. My cascade of sun-kissed hair wrapping round my back all the way to my waist. The delicate toes on my feet. I knew my breasts were not a big as some of the human women but Godric did not seem to care. He drank in the sight of them. As he fumbled with his plain clothes, I helped him take them off, drawing his shirt over his head and tossing it.

"Is this wrong?" Godric muttered in the need-choked air. "Is this right?!"

"I do not know," I muttered, reaching out with the tips of my hand and tracing his skin. "I do not know!" I muttered, lamenting. But both our needs were so great. Godric snatched my hand away and I wondered if he resented being touched. But then with an angry growl, he grasped me around my back long enough to pluck me off the ground and lower me vertically onto it on the mossy earth.

"Anwen!" Godric called out, his voice thick with desire. The distance was too great. The air too thick with sparks.

"Godric, please!" I begged and he lent forward and planted one brief, light kiss on my lips. The trees whispered. But before the act might be completed, an arrow flew and landed a few scant meters beside us. My newfound lover pulled himself off me quickly, eager to defend. A tense minute passed. Then my cousin Finden strode from the forest, his face filled with rage.

"Anwen!" Findan raged. "Have you no shame? By Sylanna! The most great and noble of the elves are meet below your ancestor's tree to see your wedding day, and you discard your bride's gown for a tryst with a human knight?! Will you see our late king's bloodline ended with you?! Would you turn from Sylanna for Elrath?!"

"I, I," I stuttered, my eyes falling then. "I am sorry."

"Come with me, cousin!" Findan barked. "I will see Godric returned safely to the edge of forest. I will see that no harms comes to your LOVER," said Findan sneering the word. "But for once in your life, Anwen, I plead that you behave with dignity! Put on your clothes!" My cousin gave me such a look I was even more ashamed. Reluctantly, I unthread my fingers from Godric and dropped his hand away. He tensed and like a wall of ice, moved away.

"I am sorry," Godric bowed before Findan. "I did not understand fully how the situation stood. But my actions were my own."

Good, brave, Godric! So noble to the very end! My heart choked within my throat and a gasp rose up but I stuck a fisted hand between my teeth and ran back into the woods in the direction from which I had come. The archer who kept my unicorn mount saddled and ready for me gave me back its reins, but Findan was too quick for me. Over the years, he had come to be a quick and foresighted thinker, unlike I who acted in the moment. Findan's troops surrounded me to keep me escaping his grasp. I was a prisoner to my cousin Findan, now. Lost in a nightmare, I was forced to wait for Findan and my return to Euny. I rode the trail in a long march of shame. Even Midarelif of the powerful and wealthy House of Resyotte was waiting there for me under the ancestral tree of my hallowed kin. But I hung my head in shame and met none of the eyes of my suitors. Instead, I shuffled towards Head Priest Euny. We spoke in low voices for a time. Our audience grew restless.

"Anwen," Head Priest Euny announced with much shock still in his voice and on his face, for he had looked forward to this day as much or more than my father had. "Has decided to decline all suitors and remain unmarried for the time being."

"No!" I heard Findan cursing as he slapped his head. But I found a tent and fled within it. I lay down inside and wept.

Godric and I kept in touch by letter over the long years. The man grew old quickly, yet he remained hale and beautiful and keen of wit. He accomplished much and was the celebrated warrior of many human wars, a key and pivotal ruler in his kingdom. He counseled kings and stood up for justice during a brutal civil war. He married and raised his daughter well.

But the wife Godric had taken passed on from illness when Godric was in his forties. It was then that the letters between he and I became almost daily. We met in secret and completed the rite that Findan had interrupted so many years ago. All the time, I feared I was disappointing the dragon god Sylanna. Yet Head Priest Euny did not read ill fortunes for me. All of these intimate details I tell you now, for you are the priest of my confession. But such things I did not tell Godric's human daughter, the good Queen Frieda.

"So to answer your question, Queen Frieda," I answered on the day of Godric's funeral. "Yes, Godric and I were lovers until Godric grew too old to travel comfortably and Queen Isabel's War took up all his time. He and I always met in secret, for our deeds were questioned by both men and elves alike. I did not wish to do any harm to Godric."

"But my father's soul was welcomed by Elrath himself!" Queen Frieda spun her words wildly. "He was never a sinner!"

"Is loving an elf really such a crime?" I said, my eyes full of sadness. "I thought so, too, that my own god, Sylanna had cause to be angry with me. But then she gave me a gift," I said opening up my purse and taking out a sacred object from within. It was the acorn Head Priest Euny had given me.

"It was just as well I did not get married that day, for what I shared with Godric had been enough. Even if he did not intend it, there was 'precum'. He leaked. The little bit of his seed he shared with me was enough to give me a son. Godric knew this, and it is part of the reason we kept up so much with the letters, until the very end."

"A son?!" Frieda gasped. "Then I have an older brother?! And he is…"

"Half-elf," I answered her somberly. "Half-human. He has yet to find his way but he studies much like the mages. Perhaps one day you two shall meet. But for now, there are things I would ask of you! No, I beg them. Queen Frieda of the Unicorn Empire, swear to me now that you will never seek harm to my son!"

"I swear it!" Queen Frieda answered promptly, smiling. "This is good news even if strange. I had thought I had no kin remaining on this earth! The demons took all."

"Good!" Anwen answered. "Then the second request I have is this. Queen Frieda, please allow me to plant this acorn at Godric's grave! That way, fifty years from now my son will have an ancestral tree to seek wisdom from. In time, perhaps his own daughter will have her marriage declared beside it roots. Whether my son chooses a human bride for himself or an elf, I would see that he is happy!" I declared. Frieda took the acorn in her hand and studied it closely.

"Well, I will have to be careful that no one of the Empire takes offense to such a gesture by the Sylvan! But stay a moment and I will plant the acorn myself." Frieda took one of the gravedigger's shovels that had been laid aside and planted the acorn directly behind the tombstone. Then with much ceremony, she prayed over it. Tears of joy mixed with lingering sorrow poured down my face.

"I can not speak for my people," said Queen Frieda. "But your son is welcome here. I must think on if he can or should take up the Duchy from me as he is Godric's eldest, but as Queen I say that he has every right to live within the kingdom if he should choose so!"

"My son has expressed no desires to visit his father's lands, yet. He is a wandering spirit and has found favor in the wizard lands. Arch-Mage Zehir is especially kind to him and it is my thought that he will ultimately apprentice in the Silver Cities."

"We will speak more!" Frieda promised. "Thank you for telling the truth."

"It has hurt me long to not speak of it," I had said drying my tears. Queen Frieda remained lost in thought.

"Now that Godric is dead, will you marry?"

"I might," I answered frankly, "although it would be hard for me to find a suitor now. My guilt on that day is too well known."

"If you do not marry," Frieda offered. "Perhaps you will visit the human kingdom for an extended stay, yourself. It is odd, indeed, but my heart bears you no ill will. I think my father will smile down from his place by Elrath's side if we be friends. Lady Anwen, you always welcome in the Palace at Talonguard, as long as I reign as queen!"

"You have my thanks," I bowed. "Now if it is alright, may I have a few moments more to visit Godric's grave?" Frieda nodded and moved away to give me a few private moments at the tomb of my beloved. I took a white lily from the wreath I wore and pressed my lips to its petals, soft like Godric's lips had been in life. I set the thrice-kissed-flower down gently on his grave.

"Godric!" I lamented less than I had before. I looked upwards toward the heavens with Elrath, and the light. "I may never see you, but you are in my thoughts, always! Like letters, I will send you a thousand prayers by the priests of Elrath to let you know I care! But I thank you for the brief time we shared, my noble and gallant knight!" Then I stood up, wondering if I would return home to forest of Syris Thalle to act more like a proper elf, or to wander the human kingdoms for at bit. For now, none of that really mattered. I was a relatively young elf, after all. I had hundreds of years more to find my own path forward. I only hoped that I might live my life as boldly as Godric had, for he was truly the noblest hero in a world full of might and magic. The end.


End file.
